Quidditch and the Ever After
by AideeEight
Summary: UPDATED! Ch.4 Our heros are all 22 years old now. Voldemort is dead. Harry is a Quidditch star for the Chudley Cannons. Hermione is dating one of Harry's teammates whom he detests! Can a simple favor for Hermione change all that? H/Hr
1. The Cannons

This is my new story! YAY! Just so you can get caught up on the setting, since this is post-Hogwarts, here is the background.

Introduction to Quidditch and the Ever After (A/U)

During his 7th year at Hogwarts, Harry Potter ultimately defeated Lord Voldemort with help from the Order of the Phoenix. Voldemort's death doubled Harry's fame. After graduation, Harry was immediately drafted to the Chudley Cannons. He began play on the reserve team as seeker. After only a few months, however, an injury on the Cannons' main squad left an opening for Harry to move up. Harry excelled and easily became the crowd favorite and youngest seeker ever to play for the Chudley Cannons. Since Harry began playing for the team, every game has been a sellout and the Cannons have yet to lose the league title; their first win streak since the title was last theirs in 1892.

Harry's best friend, Ron Weasley, couldn't be more thrilled of the Cannons success (they being his favorite team since before he could remember). Ron was doing very well for himself as well. After helping Harry to defeat Voldemort, Ron was offered a job with the Ministry of Magic. His excellent grades from numerous hours of Hermione's study help aided him also. He made such an impressive showing, and due to many openings left by former Voldemort supporters leaving their positions and going into hiding, Ron was quickly promoted to Junior Minister of the Department of Magical Games and Sports. Ron proudly works under his father, Arthur Weasley, whom after being an initial Ministry official to jump to the aid in the fight against Voldemort, was promoted to Minister of Magic. A title he earned after Cornelius Fudge quit due to poor decision making while the war against Voldemort was going on. With his excellent job, Ron's secured himself season tickets to every Chudley Cannons game to which he avidly attends all.

Hermione Granger, Ron and Harry's other best friend, graduated as Head Girl and top of her class at Hogwarts. After receiving some of the highest NEWT scores in school history, she turned down numerous job offers to work in the privacy of her London flat as a writer. She's excelled to the top of the best-seller's list with her novels chronicling her, Harry, and Ron's seven years at Hogwarts. Currently, her first three books in the series held the tops spots on the charts, and she was working on her fourth book. She's made quite a lot of money, but keeps most of it locked up in her Gringott's vault. Leaving a comfortable, yet not overbearing life away from the public's eye. Fortunately for her, she's changed a lot in appearance since Hogwarts, leading most people to not recognize her for her work when she goes out in public. She'd gotten taller, a bit thinner, and finally a bit more womanly. Her hair was now long and straight, and she wore a smidgen of daily makeup.

_**Present Time – Four Years After Hogwarts Graduation**_

"Sonorus."

"HELLO QUIDDITCH FANS! IT'S A BRIGHT AND SUNNY DAY HERE AT THE PITCH. I'M ARCHIMEDES FLYNN, VOICE OF YOUR CHUDLEY CANNONS!!"

Large cheers erupted from the crowd below the announcer's high box at the mention of the home team's name. The stadium was packed full with not an empty seat in the house.

"Today's match-up brings us The Cannons versus the Wimbourne Wasps, the second place team in the league."

A few mixed boos and cheers were awarded to the visiting team.

"We've got Atkinson, Parker, James, Lukens, Burke, Anderson, and Long playing today for the Wasps." Seven yellow and black striped players buzzed out onto the field.

"AND NOW. HERE THEY ARE.. YOUR FIRST PLACE, CHUUUUUUUUDDLEY CANNONS!!"

Archimedes Flynn paused to relax his vocal cords and take a sip of water while the stadium erupted in cheers for the oncoming of the Cannons.

"Playing Keeper, five year Cannon, Brighton Lasky!" He paused to give ample time as the first brightly orange clothed played entered onto the field. After Lasky gently sailed his broom to a stop in the center, Flynn continued.

"And next, a two year Cannon starter, playing beater, William Duval!" A handsome, young blond sailed in the pitch and landed near Lasky.

"Next, our other second year Cannon starter, chaser Timothy Eton!" A tall, mid-twenties brunette sailed out to the field. He sat proudly on his broom and just by looking at him, one would have assumed he'd come from a well-to-do family.

"Following close behind, in his first year with the Cannons, beater Briggs Alexander!" The crowd, particularity the ladies, cheer very loudly as another orange player sailed out on the field. Briggs was tall with short brown hair, a debonair smile, and the reputation of being the resident bad boy of the team-always looking for attention.

"WE LOVE BRIGGS!!" could be heard in sporadic yells of unison around the field. Briggs Alexander gave a full circle turn on his broom waving vivaciously to his fans.

"And here comes the other first year Cannon, Chaser Kindelle Covington. Kindelle is one of the only six females player in professional main squad quidditch and the Cannons are proud to have her skill." There were a few catcalls that emanated around the stadium as Kindelle soared out. She simply smiled at them, seeming to enjoy the attention. She was a tall, young blonde-obviously a favorite with the male fans.

"Following Covington is the Cannon's other five year veteran and two year England National team player along with Lasky, chaser Augustus Barshop." A tall, tan, late twenty-something man rode out. He had medium length brown hair, and by the cheers of the crowd, was an obvious fan favorite.

Barshop landed with his other teammates, all blaring orange dots in the center of the field. The crowd's cheering began to die out and a hush of anticipation swept through the stands.

"AND HERE HE IS." Flynn bellowed, "THE THREE YEAR CAPTAIN OF THE CHUDLEY CANNONS. STARTING HIS FOURTH FULL YEAR, HIS FIFTH IN TOTAL, A FOUR TIME ENGLAND NATIONAL TEAM PLAYER AND TWO-YEAR CAPTAIN, THE YOUNGEST TO PLAY IN OVER A CENTURY..."

Flynn took a quick pause for dramatic effect. The silence in the crowd became thick with anticipation.

"THE ONE, THE ONLY…Harry Potter!!" The crowd sprang to life. The cheers were deafening for the last Chudley Cannon's team member. With a burst of speed, Harry shot onto the field. After taking a lap around, he came to stop, waving at the fans along with his fellow teammates.

Flynn taped his throat with his wand and ended the spell. His voice dropped back to normal. "I'm getting to old for this," he muttered to his assistant who'd just handed him a cool glass of ice water. He drank it in one swift gulp, then grabbed his wand and again, tapped his throat.

"Sonorus."

"There they are, your Chudley Cannons." The cheers continued for a moment, but quickly began to die down as the crowd awaited the start of the match.

"And here is today's referee, Luther Mulvany. He's got the quaffle. The teams take sides around him; the keepers to each end of the field, the Chasers around Mulvany, and the Seekers, shooting up skyward. Mulvany makes his way to the center circle, whistles, AND THERE GOES THE QUAFFLE!" The crowd burst into cheers and eagerly stood to watch the beginning play of the game. "It's Covington. Covington has the quaffle and she's jetting down the field to Wimbourne's end of the field."

Kindelle ducked as a bludger blew over her head. On either side behind her were two of Wimbourne's chasers, James and Lukens.

"And here comes Duval up to fly by Covington and protect her from oncoming bludgers."

William took a might swing as another bludger neared Kindelle. He redirected the oncoming bludger right into one of the chaser tailing Kindelle. It pummeled James in the shoulder and he had to slow to stop from falling off his broom.

Quickly stopping, William lay dead in the air, directly in front of the other oncoming Wimbourne chaser who'd been tailing Kindelle. Lukens was forced to swerve in order to avoid colliding with William.

Kindelle, now alone, streaked ahead. Atkinson, the Wimbourne keeper, was no match for her and she easily scored.

"CANNONS GOAL! Covington takes the first ten points of the game for Chudley with help from some excellent defense by beater William Duval." The crowd on the Cannons' side, mainly dressed in pure orange themselves, burst into cheers.

The referee returned the quaffle to James who was waiting in the center circle for Wimbourne's tour at the goal. "Midfield, and its Wimbourne's quaffle. Ouch, tough hit! Briggs Alexander sends a bullet of a bludger right at James who's holding the quaffle." Briggs did a small victory flip and watched triumphantly as the quaffle fell from the chaser's hands while he doubled over in pain.

"And just like that, possession is back with the Cannons as Barshop recovers the fallen quaffle. With an unexpected move like this, there's no one on him. GOAL!! Cannons lead 20-0."

The crowd leapt to their feet again in cheers. Overhead, two small dots were scanning the field in large swooping patterns.

"Official game time is five minutes, thirty-eight seconds, and no sign of the snitch yet," Flynn made note to the seekers stalking the skies above. "It's Parker with the quaffle for Wimbourne. He's going down the field followed by fellow chaser, Lukens. Duval sends a bludger their way… but it misses. They're nearing the goal…OH! Brilliant save by the keep Lasky."

The Cannons side stood and cheered madly. As they did, a small glint of gold shown near center field. Suddenly, two blurs shot from the sky.

"THE SNITCH HAS BEEN SPOTTED!!" A murmured hush of excitement fell over the crowd as they watched the two seekers streak from above. "Potter is easily three broom lengths ahead of Long. Potter is riding the yet to be released to the public, Firebolt LX. His new, luxury edition broom is for his endorsement with the Firebolt Company. His teammates all ride the original version of the broom, still considered to be the fastest in the sport next to Potter's prototype."

Harry made a fantastic flip near the ground to prevent from hitting it dead on as his hand closed around the snitch. Landing gracefully, he raised his hand up high in the air, the snitch helplessly fluttering to a dead stop in his grasp.

"AND POTTER GETS THE SNITCH! It's another unanswered victory for the undefeated Cannons who beat Wimbourne today, 170-0. A complete wipeout!" The crowd stood and cheered vigorously as Harry's teammates surrounded him to offer their congratulations and celebrate the team's victory.

"That's it for today's game. This is your announcer, Archimedes Flynn, reminding you to enjoy a cool glass of pumpkin juice at the end of the game by producing your ticket stub at any Witch's Brew drink hut."

"Quietus."

"Thanks guys, see you later and the pub!" Harry waved over his shoulder as he exited the team's locker room. His hair was wet and spiky from recently showering and he was wearing khakis and a button-up dark blue dress shirt, his required game day dress wear.

"Excellent game today, Harry!" A loud, familiar voice stole his attention. It was his best friend Ron, standing outside the locker room waiting for Harry to get out. He was dressed in his ministry-approved robes. Waiting next to Ron stood their other best friend, Hermione Granger.

"Thanks!" he smiled giving Ron a celebratory high five.

"Yes, excellent catch, Harry," Hermione looked up at him smiling. Harry now towered over her by nearly a foot.

"Thanks 'Mione," he smiled at his best friend of twelve years. "What brings your all the way down here? Just waiting to congratulate the famous Harry Potter?" Harry winked at her as she slapped him across the chest.

"I'd never do such a thing Mr. Full of Himself. Quit being so cheeky," she smiled.

"It's true. She was already here before I came down to pick you up," Ron chimed in.

A small frown briefly passed over Harry's face. He knew exactly why she was there. "Timothy's not out yet," he announced bluntly. Ever since Hermione had met Timothy Eton at a Cannon's victory party earlier that year, she'd spent all of her spare time with him. They'd only been officially dating for a month, but they acted as if they were the only two people around.

"Or you could just forget him and come with me and Harry," Ron opted. He too disliked how much time Hermione spent with Eton.

"We have dinner reservations," said Hermione flatly, obviously not appreciating their distaste for her boyfriend. She crossed her arms over her chest and began to tap her foot in annoyance.

"Fine, then. I expect we'll see you at the victory party tonight," Ron grabbed Harry by the elbow and yanked him to follow.

"See you Mione," Harry called half-heartedly over his shoulder as Ron yanked him away.

"She's being very pigheaded. Spending all her time with that prat," Ron fumed as soon as they were out of earshot, "What about us? We're her best friends!"

"Supposed best friends," said Harry in disgust. He was more than fed up with the situation. Usually, he let Hermione mind to her own business, especially when it came to her boyfriends, but he wished she'd never met Eton. He knew the way he acted in the locker room and away from her was much different than the public image that he puts on.

"Do you think she'll ever come to her senses? He's all wrong for her," Ron had become overprotective and brotherly ever since Hermione had begun dating Timothy.

"I couldn't tell you, but I sure hope she does realize they're not meant to be sooner more than later," Harry sighed as the two walked to the apparation point at the end of the tunnel. It was set up solely for the team, and those people team members have given access to in order to meet them before and after games.

"Can we go back to my place first? I want to change," said Harry as he and Ron stopped at the site.

"Sure thing," Ron answered as both disappeared with two soft pops.

Hermione frowned as her two best friends disappeared around the corner. They'd been anything but supportive of new newfound relationship with Timothy. They had no right, in her opinion, to be saying anything bad about him. He was nothing but a gentleman to her-always taking her out to fancy dinners or the newest nightclubs. And he was only three years old than she. Twenty-two was not that young; she could handle making her own decisions. Timothy was from a very high-class pureblood family and could offer her anything she'd ever dreamed of. He was absolutely perfect.

As if on cue, Timothy interrupted Hermione's thoughts of himself by exiting the locker room. "And there's my darling," said Timothy with his trademark debonair smile as he walked over and kissed Hermione, wrapping his arms firmly and possessively around her waist.

"Good game today," she smiled.

"Thank you- even if I never got the chance to touch the Quaffle. It was one of our quickest victories yet," said Timothy as he put his arm around Hermione and began leading her toward the apparation point.

Hermione smiled up at him. "So where are you taking me for dinner?" She asked as they stopped, needing to know where to apparate herself to.

"C'est Si Bon," he smiled at the mention of one of the most expensive French restaurants in London.

"Timothy! You don't have to take me anywhere that fancy! And look at me, I'm dressed up, but not that much," said Hermione, blushing at her appearance.

"You look gorgeous. Now no arguing, let's go," he smiled as the two disappeared with small popping noises.

It was half past eight and the majority of the Chudley Cannon's players had gathered at Alabaster's Pub on the Wharf, a favorite hangout magically hidden in muggle London.

Ron and Harry, who'd each at a few muggle beers and after a few bad games of pool, were now playing darts.

"I don't like him," said Harry as he stood at the line, aiming another dart.

"What?" asked Ron lazily. He was sitting at a table next to Harry sipping another mug of beer while leaning his elbow on the table.

"Eton. He's pompous," said Harry as he vigorously chucked a dart at the board. It stuck hard within the center circle.

"She's happy, you know," said Ron, the alcohol having relaxed him a bit. He had trouble holding ill will while in his current state of being.

"Yes, but I still don't like him," Harry chucked another dart at the board. It stuck firmly just to the side of his first one. Harry aimed his next dart with his tongue poking out of the side of his mouth in concentration.

"BRIGGS! BRIGGS! BRIGGS!" Sudden cheers came from across the bar. Ron and Harry looked over to see Briggs Alexander pounding down a giant pitcher of beer. Next to him on a high barstool sat Kindelle Covington, laughing and clapping him along with the crowd. Her long, blond hair now hung freely around her shoulders and she'd changed into tight jeans, and a rather revealing low-cut shirt.

"You'd think he was the one who'd caught the snitch," smirked Ron as Briggs slammed the empty pitcher down on the counter and his eager fans cheered. A crowd of well wishers and young girls always found their way to Briggs after Chudley victories. He wasn't always the best Cannon, but he put on the best show.

"Alexander just has a big head. He lives for the attention," Harry shrugged him off before turning and throwing another dart.

"Kindelle seems to be enjoying herself," Ron rolled his eyes. "Moved on to another interest already, I see?" Kindelle now had her arm draped over Briggs shoulders and was laughing with her head thrown back.

"We were never serious and that was five years ago. If you even consider it dating. It was barely a few weeks back while I was on the reserve team," Harry threw another dart. All had somehow managed to stay in the center circle, even though he was beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol a bit.

"She still likes you," said Ron with a scoff, watching the way she practically through herself at Alexander. He took a final sip of his beer raised his arm toward the barkeep to signal the need of another drink. He was by far outpacing Harry (which was usually the norm).

"Well the sentiment is not returned," Harry threw the last dart in his hand, the sat down next to Ron. He grabbed his beer mug and took another swig. "I have no idea why she's all over Briggs anyway. Must be her need for the spotlight because all I ever here her tell me is how pompous and pigheaded she thinks he is. Not that I care one bit," Harry took another drink.

"Would this be Kindelle and Mr. Full of Himself over there you're talking about?" said a voice behind Harry. He looked over his shoulder to see a smiling William Duval heading over.

"Hey Will, what took you so long to get here?" Harry smiled, giving William a high five as he reached them. William was always a welcome third to Ron and Harry's private party.

"You know me, off with some girl Friday," he winked before reaching across the table and shaking Ron's hand, "Nice to see you today in good spirits, Ron," he smiled.

"Same to you, Will," Ron smiled as William took a seat at their table. A waitress wandered over and Ron's refill and a mug for Will having seen him come in. It was a tradition for the team to go to Alabaster's after the games. Only certain people who made the Cannon's guest list were allowed to come inside after game nights which made for a much more relaxing atmosphere (though Briggs has the tendency to pass out random invitations as he walked past the crowd to get in).

"Jealous Kindelle isn't throwing herself at you, mate?" William laughed, looking over at her pathetic attempts to flirt with Briggs.

"Shut up man," Harry smirked, giving his closest teammate a playful punch to the arm. William knew full well that Harry couldn't stand Kindelle and that her advances were very, very unwanted.

"At least it's him right now and not you, ay Harry?" Ron laughed. Since William had moved up to the main squad last season, it had been a post-game ritual for he, Harry, and Ron to hangout during the team's after party. William and Harry had easily became very close friends, William and Ron pretty good friends as well.

"I heard Alexander talking about Kindelle in the locker room after the game today. Apparently all he's after is a little action, then hitting the high road, if you know what I mean," William rolled his eyes in disgust.

"Wouldn't surprise me," Harry frowned, looking down at his drink. He was pondering what to add on when a small jingle at the door stopped Harry from continuing to the conversation. Harry looked up to see Timothy Eton, his arm possessively around Hermione, enter the Pub. There were a few cheers and shouts of hello as the two made their way over to where Briggs and his followers were sitting and found a table.

"Harry, don't," said William in a knowing voice as to suggest he try and not worry about it. William knew full well how much Harry detested that relationship.

"It's hard not to," Harry knocked back the rest of his mug and put the glass back on the table a little too loudly. The dull thunk was drowned out by the careless laughter across the pub.

"It's just not right," Ron glared across the room. "She can do so much better than that."

"Ron, you too," William sighed, "Don't make me cut you off." William smiled at his friends. He knew both of their bloods boiled at the mere sight of Eton now. And, especially with alcohol in their systems, they could act at any moment. He was no fan of Eton himself, but he didn't have a true reason to loathe him like Ron and Harry did.

"Sorry," Ron mumbled, taking another drink. Finally, they turned their attention away from the couple.

"So only three more games left, ay Potter?" William smiled, trying to cheer his friend up by talking about Quidditch.

"Yes, I figure our game against Caerphilly will be a no contest, Montrose should put up quite a fight, and they have a pretty good team this year, but, Appleby that will be a joke. They haven't had any talent since Martinsen left in 1995. I suppose we'll be facing Wimbourne again in the finals, but obviously the title is still ours," said Harry, perking up at the mention of his favorite topic, quidditch.

"You're up for captain of the England National team again, aren't you?" William nudged his friend in the shoulder.

"I hope. It's a fun gig," Harry smiled.

"Figure it's you, Lasky, and Barshop as per usual. Lukens and James from Wimbourne, maybe Wiggins from Puddlemere. I don't know. Not me, that's for bloody sure," William shrugged.

"You're a damn fine chaser!" Ron bellowed as he waved over a waitress to refill his mug.

"Thanks mate, but I'm a beater," William laughed.

"Right, must be all that beer. I knew that," said Ron, turning a bit red as the waitress handed him yet another drink.

"Hello," said a soft, feminine voice beside them, suddenly cutting into their conversation. The three looked up to see Hermione, without one Timothy Eton, come to see them. "Sorry for interrupting, but I was wondering if I could borrow Harry for a moment," she said sweetly.

"Uh, sure," Harry gave his friends each a small nod before rising and following Hermione out of earshot from everyone.

"Harry, I need to ask you a favor," said Hermione in a hushed voice. She leaned in close so that Harry could hear her over the chatter of the pub.

"Alright," he replied warily. He took as step closer to hear better as well. As he was listening intently for her proposal, he noticed how attractive she looked in the dim pub lights. 'Where did that come from, Potter?' He shook his head a bit and focused. 'Must be the alcohol. Not that she's not been pretty before…oh shut up Potter!'

"Harry, are you listening?" she leaned in a bit closer, a perturbed look on her face. "Do I need to repeat myself?"

"Yes, I'm mean no, sorry. I'm listening" said Harry, trying to lean back and not take the urge to breath in her scent. He head was swimming and he wasn't sure if it was all to blame on the booze.

"Right, so you don't mind teaching me to fly then?" repeated Hermione shyly. She big brown eyes looked up at Harry with eagerness. He dearly loved that expression on her, having seen it many times at Hogwarts as they grew up.

"Hermione, you know how to fly," said Harry, "Everyone at Hogwarts had to learn."

"But I was never any good. Besides, you know I'm terribly afraid of heights and, well, I'd like to learn as sort of a surprise for Timothy's and my two-month anniversary. I'd like to show him that I have interest in what he does," said Hermione, beaming with pride at her idea.

"Mione, I don't know. Eton's such a, well, he's a jerk Hermione," said Harry. Inside he knew he couldn't resist her wide-eyed plea, even if Eton was involved somehow. And when Hermione cooked up a scheme, she was bound to see it through.

"Harry, I know you don't seem to get along with him, though I can't picture why, you are teammates and all, but I'd really appreciate if you'd do this for me," said Hermione, leaning in and placing a caring hand on his shoulder.

"Alright," Harry relented with a sigh, his gaze cast disapprovingly downward- partially to show her his disinterest in aiding anything to do with Eton- and partially, well, he wasn't quite sure when he couldn't meet her eye just then.

"Thank you so much!" said Hermione, throwing her arms around him. Harry lazily slid his arms up around her. He closed his eyes for a brief second before she pulled away. "I'll owl you soon with details!" With that, she ran back off to Timothy.

Harry slumped as he walked back over and took a seat with William and Ron.

"What did she want?" said Ron and he set down yet another empty beer mug.

"For me to help her surprise that egotistical bastard, Eton. I don't why I said yes," said Harry, picking up his own mug and quickly finishing off the rest of its contents.

"You said yes?!" said Ron, sounding rather ballistic. He was becoming more dramatic in his intonation and gestures as the night wore on and the empty mugs piled up.

"I can't say no to her," sighed Harry, leaning back in his chair. He folded his hands behind his head and looked up at the ceiling. He knew he was going to regret this, but he just can't say no to Hermione- never could.

"Women are hard to deny," William laughed, sympathizing in Harry's plight.

"True true, I'll drink to that!" Ron smiled as the waitress brought he and Harry another drink each.

"CHEERS!"


	2. The First Flying Lesson

Disclaimer: I don't own H/H. JKR does. She's a goddess! I'm just borrowing them for your entertainment. =)  
  
Thanks for all those who read the first chapter of this!! More to come!  
  
((You know the Happily 'Ever After'? That's what this story is about, just with a quidditch twist ;) ))  
  
Chapter Two: Quidditch and the Ever After  
  
"Hi, it's me."  
  
Harry was shoving groceries into the cupboard of his kitchen as he listened to his messages. Since he lived in a flat in Muggle London he'd become adapted to using many common use items such as the telephone and accompanying answering machine.  
  
"I suppose you're out, but I just wanted to call and remind you of the favor I asked of you last night. Not that I thought you'd had too much to drink and that you wouldn't remember!"  
  
Harry smiled to himself at the sound of Hermione's voice rushing out an excuse. He slightly shook his head in amusement as he went back to unloading his grocery bags.  
  
"Anyway, I was hoping we could start soon. I only have a month until my and Timothy's anniversary. I also know you are going to be rather buys with league finals coming up and National team bids being announced soon."  
  
Harry nodded as he moved to the refrigerator and began putting items into it. It was true that the upcoming month would be very busy for him.  
  
"Even if you know you're the shoe in for England National Team's Captain!"  
  
Harry blushed slightly at the praising tone of her voice, but quickly shook it off and continued to listen to the message.  
  
"So when you get this message, give me a call so we can get together. Love you. Bye."  
  
Harry sighed with contentment at the sweet, loving tone of her voice. Even if he disapproved of her dating Eton, she was his best friend. He loved her too dearly to let something like that come between them. Walking over to the answering machine that had just shut itself off with a beep, Harry picked up the portable phone resting next to it. With smooth motions he'd committed to memory, Harry dialed Hermione's flat. Cradling the phone on his shoulder, he continued to put away his remaining groceries.  
  
"Hermione Granger," her soft voice answered after a bit of shuffling noises of the telephone being picked up.  
  
"Hi gorgeous," said Harry, smiling at the mere sound of his best friend's voice. He put the last of his groceries away and took the receiver in hand as he made his way into his living room to take a seat on the couch.  
  
Hermione giggled a bit at the other end of the phone at his compliment. "Flatterer."  
  
"I try," said Harry laughing a bit himself. It made him genuinely happy simply hearing her voice.  
  
"So you got my message?" asked Hermione.  
  
"Yes, just now. Sorry, I was at the grocery store," said Harry needlessly apologizing for not being there when she'd called.  
  
"That's alright. What's a good day for you to start this week?" she inquired.  
  
"How about tonight?" said Harry smiling at the thought of being able to see her that night.  
  
"Um. actually that sounds like it will work out. I can't think of anything else I'd planned to do," said Hermione with a cheerful note to her voice.  
  
"Great!" said Harry a bit too enthusiastically.  
  
"It's what, two p.m. now? Would you want to come over for dinner, then go out flying after that?" said Hermione, her voice lowering a bit when she added the dinner part.  
  
"Sounds good. Did you want to go out for dinner, or. "  
  
"I'm cooking," she smiled cutting him off. "I'll see you here at five p.m. sharp, alright?"  
  
"Yes, ma'am," said Harry with a large smile.  
  
"Well, I better go to the grocery store then so we can have something to eat. Goodbye, Harry."  
  
"See you," Harry clicked off the portable phone and lazily set it down on the couch next to him before getting up and heading to take a shower. He wanted to appear his best to Hermione at dinner.  
  
~*~  
  
Harry looked into his large bathroom mirror at his reflection. His normally messy dark brown hair had been brushed smoothly into place. Its bit of length still gave it a bit of a roughish look. A few loose pieces danced across his forehead, hiding his trademark scar. He tugged at the collar of his burgundy dress shirt. He'd worn it with a casual pair of khakis. The burgundy shirt was Hermione's favorite. It reminded her of their Gryffindor days. Naturally, Harry had chosen it on purpose. After pulling at his collar for a while, he decided to undo the top button. Finally satisfied, Harry gave a quick glance at his watch. ::4:55::  
  
Hastily, he dabbed on a bit of his favorite cologne, leaving the bottle open on the counter as he ran into his bedroom. Grabbing some shoes on the floor next to his bed, he hopped around trying to get them on with one hand while grabbing his broomstick out from under his bed. In his haste to see Hermione, he'd nearly forgotten it. When he finished, he grabbed his wand off of his dresser and muttered a quick shrinking spell on his broom that was still inside its protective traveling case.  
  
Glancing at his watch again, Harry discovered he only had two minutes left. He turned and grabbed his long, black, button-up wool coat off his bed and threw it of. Tossing his broom and want into a pocket, he disappeared with a small pop.  
  
~*~  
  
A moment later, Harry reemerged in an alley way around the corner from Hermione's. It was the designated place Hermione had deemed safe for he and Ron to use when Apparating to see her in Muggle London.  
  
Straightening his coat, Harry casually strolled around the corner, down the sidewalk, and up the steps until he was waiting at the front door to her complex. Scanning the roster next to the door, he found "GRANGER" and pressed the call button next to her name.  
  
"Right one time," Hermione's sweet voice replied as the door buzzed, allowing Harry to go upstairs. He glanced at his watch as he went. It was five o'clock on the dot.  
  
"Good job, Potter," said Harry quietly to himself as he got on the lift up to Hermione's flat. What seemed like forever later to him, Harry finally arrived at her door. After a gentle knock, she answered. Harry had to control himself from dropping his jaw at her attire. She was wearing a long-sleeved white oxford with the sleeves and top and bottom buttons undone, allowing the slighting view of her stomach and cleavage. Her long, fitted grey pants dusted the floor, barely showing her bare toes poking out the end of the cuffs. Her long hair flowed down her back in a cascade of curls, and she'd put on a bit of makeup.  
  
"Harry! Hi!" said Hermione as she stepped through the doorway, breaking his stare and giving him a hug. He gladly wrapped him arms around his best friend. He even wagered a small inhale, noting the sweet familiar scent he attributed to her.  
  
Breaking apart, she took him by the hand and led him into her flat. Harry closed the door behind them. Releasing his hand, Hermione offered to take his coat and placed it on the antique coat rack she had near the door.  
  
"I'm really glad we're getting a change to hangout," said Hermione with a smile. They were standing in her quaint, elegantly decorated living room, warmed by the fire she had going.  
  
"Me too. I miss not seeing you. Everyday for seven years in hard to give up, even if it's been awhile since we graduated," said Harry, watching the distant fire dance in the reflection of her eyes.  
  
"I know what you mean," said Hermione, dropping her voice and her gaze from him. Harry looked at her oddly, wondering about the change in her reaction, but it was fleeting as he head shot up and she smiled saying, "Are you hungry? I'm starving! How about we go eat?"  
  
"Alright," said Harry, gladly following Hermione into her dining room. He awed when he saw what she'd set-up. The lights had been barely dimmed, not enough to be seen as romantic, just peaceful. Two long-stemmed candles had been set in the middle of the round, four-person dark wooden table. Two plates sat across from each other, dished with delicious looking chicken and broccoli fettuccini that he didn't doubt she'd made from scratch, without magic.  
  
"Well. ?" said Hermione nervously, taking her seat as Harry slowly sat down into his.  
  
"Hermione, this is.. Amazing! I don't deserve all this," said Harry smiling at her from across the table.  
  
"Thanks," she mumbled, blushing and gazing down at her plate.  
  
"You really didn't have to work so hard.."  
  
"I want to make sure you know how much I appreciate you helping me.. For Timothy," she added.  
  
"Of course," Harry gave a forced smile at the mention of his name. "Can I?" he asked picking up his fork and pointing it toward the food in front of him.  
  
"Oh! Of course! Please, enjoy," she said, picking up her own fork and delving into it.  
  
Harry swirled some pasta on his fork and rose the bite into his mouth, "Mmmm.. wow Hermione! This is really delicious!"  
  
"Thanks," said Hermione sheepishly as she took a small, delicate bite into her mouth.  
  
"And it's still warm. Heating charm?" said Harry with a grin before he took another heaping bite.  
  
"Of course," said Hermione, spearing a single broccoli floret.  
  
"This really is nice. You out did yourself. I'm not used to such treatment." Hermione blushed as Harry spoke. "I bet Timothy loves this; you making him dinner and setting it up like this, I mean," said Harry between bites.  
  
"Actually, we never do this together. Timothy always insists we go out. He says he likes to show me off to his public," said Hermione, her voice a bit disheartened.  
  
"Then he has no idea how much he's missing out on," said Harry softly while keeping his gaze on her until her eyes would meet his. She smiled softly and he back before Harry returned his attention to his delicious dinner.  
  
Hermione stayed quiet throughout the rest of the meal. Harry gave her the occasional glance wondering if Timothy was the reason for her sudden change in demeanor. Every time she spoke of him, her smile seemed to fade away. Just seeing her unhappy twisted his insides. If in any way Timothy was the cause for even a drop of her unhappiness, Harry was make sure he'd pay for it.  
  
~*~  
  
Harry helped Hermione with the dishes after the meal, then let her put some shoes and a sweater on before heading out for her flying lesson.  
  
He sat on Hermione's couch fiddling with the shrunken broom in his coat pocket while she changed. When she emerged, she was wearing a black v- neck sweater over her white oxford and now had shiny Doc Marten's poking out from under the cuffs of her grey pants. She was sliding a black pea coat on as she walked up to him.  
  
"Ready to go?" he asked as he stood, his long black coat flowing out behind him as he stood.  
  
"Yes," she replied, not looking up while she did the buttons of her coat up.  
  
"Great," said Harry, walking over to the front door and opening it for her, "After you."  
  
"Why thank you, Harry," she beamed as she walked past him. Harry followed and stuck his hand in his pocket, taking a hold on his wand as he pulled the door shut. Turning the wand in his pocket, he muttered a locking spell before catching up with Hermione.  
  
"You did not!" she frowned, crossing her arms as he walked up next to her.  
  
"What?" said Harry, challenging her with his trademark boyish grin. Hermione just scoffed loudly and defiantly turned her head from him. "You look like a Muggle tonight," he suddenly teased.  
  
"Harry," she laughed, "I AM a Muggle. Besides, you look pretty Muggle yourself tonight." She enjoyed the friendly banter. It was always something she could count on with Ron and Harry. Unfortunately, conversations with Timothy were always so serious.  
  
"I did live with them for the majority of my life," said Harry.  
  
Hermione stuck out her tongue then smiled and shook her head as they walked toward the Apparation point around the corner from Hermione's flat.  
  
"Are you ready?" asked Harry, holding out his hand toward Hermione once they were safely out of sight from the Muggles wandering the streets.  
  
"Where is it that we're headed?" said Hermione flashing Harry an apprehensive look. Still, she gently laid her hand in his. As she did so, his fingers curled gently around hers.  
  
"Just trust me," he winked as the pair disappeared with two small pops.  
  
~*~  
  
"Where are we?" asked Hermione as she felt the ground materialize beneath her feet. Her eyes still remained close in respect for Harry's wishes to surprise her. Uncertain of her footing, she kept a tight clutch onto Harry's hand.  
  
"A piece of land that I bought out in the countryside. Don't worry; no one can see us here. I've set up multiple Anti-Muggle charms, as well as Invisibility charms around the exterior so no one will even see that we're here, witch, wizard, or Muggle alike," said Harry as he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. He was really enjoying the feeling of her delicate fingers entwined with his. He didn't know where the desire came from, but somewhere in the back of his mind screamed for him not to let her go.  
  
"Can I open my eyes now?" said Hermione. Harry watched in amusement as her eyebrows rose while she spoke in an attempt to keep her eyes sealed shut.  
  
"Sure," he laughed as he watched the large chocolate-colored orbs flutter open. Hermione took a few moments to glance around before her eyes settled into lock with Harry's.  
  
"It's beautiful here," said Hermione in a soft, appreciative tone.  
  
'That's not the only that's beautiful here,' thought Harry as he absently-mindedly let his thumb rub up and down the side of her hand. Suddenly, he froze, realizing what he was thinking and doing. This was Hermione, his best friend. He had absolutely no romantic feeling for her. Harry shook his head as he let her hand fall from his. Unnoticed by both, a from crossed their two faces as they lost physical contact with one another.  
  
"So flying, right?" said Harry with a large, pasted-on smile. He pulled his broom out of his pocket, enlarged the case, and began fiddling with his now regulation-sized broom inside.  
  
"Right.for Timothy." said Hermione in an odd wistful tone that Harry couldn't quite read.  
  
"Okay, all set," he smiled. "You can still pick it up, right?" He smiled, remembering the few lessons Hermione had received during their first year at Hogwarts.  
  
"Of course," she said in a dignified tone as she marched over to the broom Harry had so carefully laid out on the grass. It was his most prized possession after all. "UP!" demanded Hermione as she stretched out her hand and watched the broom fly into her grasp. She turned to Harry and tossed him her classic know-it-all look.  
  
"Great, now hop on," said Harry as he watched her with a bemused smile.  
  
Hermione's eyes flicked nervously, albeit quickly, toward the broom as she saddled up. After she was settled, she gave a quick nod to herself, then turned her attention toward and awaiting Harry.  
  
"Great, now kick off," said Harry, still watching. Hermione nodded is assent then pushed off the ground. She wobbled a bit as the broom rose a few feet, causing her to lean forward and nervously clutch the handle. "Are you alright?" asked Harry with a bit of concern as he walked over next to her.  
  
"Ya.no," she said letting go of the handle and flinging herself onto Harry's chest.  
  
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, it's okay," said Harry as he wrapped his arms protectively around her and began stroking her hair. "Here," said Harry as he began to move. Hermione's grasp tightened as he did. "It's okay, I'm just moving behind you. You only have to let go for a second." Harry voice was soft and gentle as Hermione sat up and slid slowly from the embrace.  
  
"Okay, thank you Harry," she mumbled. She couldn't bring herself to look him in the face, she was too ashamed that after all these years, she couldn't even bare levitating a bit off the ground.  
  
"Okay, just relax," said Harry softly as he slid onto the broom behind her. He could feel Hermione relax back into him as he slid up closely behind her. "Now, we'll just have to do this together until you're comfortable," said Harry as his arms slid around her waist to grasp the broom handle in front of her. "Ready?"  
  
"Yes," said Hermione, the trepidation still obvious in her voice. Harry could feel her cringe as she waited for them to leave the ground.  
  
"One.Two..Three," said Harry as he gently kicked them off the ground to hover a few feet above it. As soon as they rose, Hermione hands flew up to tightly clutch around Harry's. "Are you ok?"  
  
"No, but I have to learn," said Hermione with a shaky voice, "besides, I know you'll never let me fall."  
  
"Never," said Harry into her ear as he pulled up on the handle as lifted the broom higher into the air.  
  
Hermione sighed and let her eyes flutter shut as Harry's lips brushed her ear. His caring voice worked like and intoxicating drug, relaxing her to the point she almost didn't realize they were traveling higher up together. 'Stop this!' her mind screamed at her. 'Harry is your BEST FRIEND. You are doing this for Timothy; Timothy your boyfriend. Now just relax and this will be over soon enough.'  
  
"Stilling doing okay," said Harry again into her ear. He couldn't help speaking so closely to her. He loved the feeling of her proximity too much for his own good.  
  
"Yes, thank you," said Hermione as she willed her eyes open and glanced down. She tightened her grip on Harry's hands slightly as she realized how high they'd climbed. "I can do this," she said softly, almost under her breath.  
  
"Of course you can," said Harry. "Now try pulling the handle up a bit."  
  
Hermione nodded and pulled up on her and Harry's hands. It was a bit jostled, but the broom rose a few more feet. "I did it!" Hermione turned her head a bit toward Harry's behind her.  
  
"Good job," smiled Harry. "Now tip the handle down a bit. Not so hard this time and it will go more smoothly. Just press down slightly."  
  
Hermione bit her lip a bit in concentration as she followed Harry's orders. She could help but smile to herself a bit as the broom responded to her subtle directing.  
  
"You're doing so well," beamed Harry. He really was proud at how quickly she was getting the hang of it.  
  
"It's not so bad after all," said Hermione as she leveled off the broom let it glide through the sky in a small left to right pattern.  
  
"Good," said Harry tightening his arms around her and firmly gripping the broom himself.  
  
"Harry, what are you doing?" asked Hermione at his sudden action.  
  
"Nothing," he smiled.  
  
"Harry...OH MY GOD!" she screamed as he sped up the broom and headed into a downward dive. Hermione continued to scream, even as he pulled the broom up and began zipping through the sky. "Please, please, please stop!!!" She begged.  
  
"Why?" he smiled coyly against her ear. He was having way too much fun to stop and continued looping and swirling his broom around in the graceful manner he enjoyed so much. "Just relax, it's fun."  
  
Hermione bit her lip and willed her eyes open. After a minute of extreme flying, she began to realize there was no way Harry would let anything ever happen to her. She felt so safe in him arms, she began to relax and watch the sights around her as they flew by in unrecognizable blurs. Suddenly her breath caught in her throat, it was actually quite exhilarating zipping around on a broomstick. She'd never given it enough of a chance to realize how thrilling it really was. Before she knew it, an amused smile had creped its way across Hermione's face.  
  
"Why Ms. Granger, it look as if you might be actually enjoying yourself for once," laughed Harry as he felt Hermione relax and noticed she seemed to actually be having so fun.  
  
"Oh bug off, Harry," said Hermione, attempting to give him a stern look. She failed miserably as she giggled just looking at the pouting lip her gave her in return. "Do you have to always do that?" she playing ventured a hand off the broom to slap him in the arm.  
  
"Only for you," he dropped his voice as his lips brushed her ear. Hermione's eyes fluttered shut a second. She didn't understand what was going on, and she didn't really care. All she knew was that she was having the time of her life, and the only person she wanted to share it with at that moment, was Harry.  
  
End part 2  
  
Sorry it took me so long to get this out! School is really busy this quarter! I'm finishing up my major so it's a lot of work!! ;) If you read, please review!!! (Let's me know if you want more chapters! ;) 


	3. Realizations

Disclaimer: I don't own H/H. JKR does. She's a goddess! I'm just borrowing them for your entertainment. =)  
  
((You know the Happily 'Ever After'? That's what this story is about, just with a quidditch twist ;) ))  
  
Chapter Three: Quidditch and the Ever After  
  
Harry Potter opened the door to his flat a little past midnight. He had just gotten back from flying with Hermione. They had been out for quite a few hours. Neither one of them had looked at the time; nor did they seem to care. Which is the exact reason that as Harry entered his flat, he kicked the door shut behind him and stumbled into his living room without even bothering to turn on the lights. He collapsed onto the couch; but, not before punching at the wall above it as he fell.  
  
"You're an idiot Potter!" he grumbled to himself, turning his random punches to a pillow on the couch even though his knuckled hurt quite a bit still from the wall incident. He held the pillow firmly in his grasp and he let his breathing subside. Finally, he fell onto his back looking upwards.  
  
'It's Hermione you dolt. You should not have done that!' Harry couldn't help but berate himself. He'd allowed himself to get carried away for quite a few hours by the feeling of Hermione in his arms. He could still remember the smell of her hair and the sounds of her amusement as they tore through the skyline. He'd had such a wonderful time, but as it turned out, a little too wonderful. Now he couldn't stop thinking about her. And he honestly had no idea why he couldn't get her image out of his head. It's not like they hadn't spent multiple hours in close proximity before. There'd been the time the had to huddle in the corner under Harry's invisibility cloak for nearly four hours when Filch walked into a classroom they'd been in and had begun doing some repairs on the only doorway out. They'd even shared the same bed before at Hogwarts, strictly platonically, but still, Harry had never felt anything those other times. Which was why he was so distraught now. He is a very smart wizard and to not be able to figure something out that should be blatantly obvious, was killing him.  
  
~*~  
  
Harry awoke the next morning with an incredibly bad headache. He moaned as the sunlight hit his face and rolled onto his side facing away from the window. That's when he saw the half empty bottle of fire whiskey sitting on his nightstand. He groaned again as he remembered last night's events. Dinner, flying, and then the alcohol he'd attempted to wash it all away with. Yet, all the thoughts of her came flooding back as he woke up more, leaving him with them, and an additional hangover.  
  
Harry's morning was rather slow. He dragged through his daily routine for so long, that by the time he was done, he had fifteen minutes to be suited up and on the field for Quidditch practice. After finally noticing the time, Harry bolted to his room to grab his broom, the quickly Disapparated to the Chudley Cannons stadium.  
  
When he arrived, he sprinted down the long corridor to the team's locker room where everyone was either finishing dressing for practice, or already out on the field.  
  
"Hey Harry, you feeling okay? You look like you got hit by a truck!" laughed William as he laced up his arm guards. He was right to say so, Harry looked terrible out of breath and still a bit ragged from his long night and unpleasant morning.  
  
"I will be as soon as I can get some fresh air on my face out there on the field," said Harry as he began yanking out every piece of his uniform from the locker next to William's.  
  
"What happened mate?" said William leaning over and lowering his voice to a whisper.  
  
"Hermione's lesson." said Harry in an equally inaudible voice as he sent death glares across the room to where Timothy Eton was admiring himself in a mirror. He muttered what sounded like some choice curse words under his breath as William watched him with interest.  
  
"So she is bad at flying, what's the big deal?" said William cautiously as he watched Harry continue to glare at Eton.  
  
"What?" said Harry snapping out of his daze, "Oh no, she was actually quite good."  
  
Harry began changing in record time as William continued to give him an odd look. Something had gotten to Harry and he wanted to know what it was. He'd have to wait until later though because without another word, Harry grabbed his broom and rushed through the tunnel leading out on to the field.  
  
William wanted to know now more than ever what was bothering Harry, but it would have to wait until after practice. He had a growing suspicion however that it had to do with Eton; especially considering Harry's glares in his direction were much more frequent and volatile that usual.  
  
~*~  
  
"You call that a save?!" demanded Harry as he sailed over to Lasky from his normal position overlooking the field in search of the snitch.  
  
"Bug off Harry! I don't stop the quaffle every time! And you know Barshop's a good chaser!" yelled Lasky back at him.  
  
Harry seemed to have it out for everyone that day at practice. Normally, he was the best captain anyone could ask for. But now, it wasn't just William who could tell that something was bothering Harry.  
  
Harry's tirade continued for about an hour before he seemed like he'd just lost the will to continue and let the team just practice. He proceeded to lazily scanning the skies for sight of the snitch. The team seemed rather relieved that he'd given it up, but now, he had five more people wondering what was up with him.  
  
While Harry was scanning from the snitch, which must have taken a permanent vacation because he'd never once missed it; Harry spotted a short man in very fancy looking dress robes and a tall wizard's hat standing patiently near the side of the fence.  
  
"Okay, practice is over," yelled Harry at his teammates around him. They stopped playing and turned their attention to Harry who had begun gliding down toward the corner of the field. It was then that they all noticed the oddly placed man as well and began following Harry.  
  
"Hello, can I help you?" asked Harry as he landed in front of him and got off his broom, extending his hand to greet the man. He took it and shook Harry's hand back as the rest of Harry's teammates landed behind him to listen in.  
  
"My name is Sonic DeLange," replied the man. He appeared to be in his late forties and carried himself very professionally. "I'm here, Mr. Potter, representing the England National Team executive board."  
  
Harry's eyes widened a bit at this comment, especially since it was directed at him.  
  
"It's my great pleasure to inform you that you have been selected this year to represent England in it's race for the Quidditch Cup as the team's seeker . . . and Captain."  
  
A goofy grin began to cross Harry's face and he began to phase out his surroundings. Even though he had a feeling this announcement would be coming any day now, it made all his plaguing thoughts of Hermione vanish.  
  
"Well done, Harry!" "Yes, Congratulations mate!" Yells of encouragement from his teammates behind him, and a few arms extending to shake his shoulders snapped Harry out of his daze.  
  
"Thanks you Mr. DeLange. I gladly accept," he smiled brightly as his teammates continued to pat his back.  
  
"Yes, I'd also like to speak to a Mr. Augustus Barshop?" he stepped to the side so that he could see around Harry into the mass of people behind him. They stopped shaking Harry and quieted down as Augustus stepped out from the group.  
  
"That's me," he said in a rather casual tone.  
  
"Mr. Barshop, the executive board would also be pleased if you would join us as a Chaser for England's National Team," Mr. DeLange smiled. He seemed to enjoy his post as liaison with the professional teams.  
  
"I'd love to take you up on that," grinned Augustus as his teammates turned to congratulate him.  
  
:"Well a think that's it . . ." he turned as if to leave. The entire team noticed it would be the first time since his two consecutive starts that Lasky was not asked back as keeper. "Oh wait, I'm sorry, I have one more from the Cannons." He stopped and turned to the team. Lasky looked ready to step out. "Can a please see a Mr. William Duval?"  
  
There was a small gasp from the team as William stepped from the back of the group to the front. "I'm him," said William in a meek voice, half expecting to be asked on as laundry service.  
  
"Mr. Duval! We have been very pleased to watch your improvement on the team this year! I don't know if you're aware of it, but you have the most saves of any beater in the league while stopping opposing chasers who have the quaffle. The executive board has asked me to invite you to play for England this off-season."  
  
William looked as if he couldn't speak. His mouth began moving, but no words came out. He looked over to Harry is desperation.  
  
"He accepts," said Harry as William began furiously nodding his head in agreement with Harry.  
  
"Very well. Mr. Potter," he said turning his attention to Harry again. "I expect you're familiar with running National Team practices. Your first one is in precisely one week after the regular Quidditch season has ended. Here is the practice schedule," he said handing Harry a piece of paper, "and this is your team roster," he handed Harry another paper. "Good day gentlemen, Miss," he nodded at Kindelle as he turned and began walking away to the stadium's Apparation point.  
  
"Sorry Brighton," a few teammates attempted to console Lasky.  
  
"It's okay mates. I can't stay young forever," mumbled Lasky.  
  
The majority of the attention, however, had been turned to William. With the large amount of success that Chudley had been seeing this season, they'd all failed to notice the numbers that William had been putting up all season. They were good team in that sense, never looking at players individually, but always seeing it as a team effort.  
  
"Hey, Harry!" said William finally breaking free from his teammates and walking over to Harry who had been reading over his team's practice schedule.  
  
"Will! Congratulations!" yelled Harry giving his friend a high five. "There's no one I'd rather play with out there that you," he said genuinely.  
  
"Thanks mate," he beamed. "So who else is on the team?" This seemed to interest the rest of the Cannons as they all leaned in to hear what Harry had to say.  
  
"Oh, I hadn't looked yet. I was just going over out practice schedule. It looks pretty intense. Well, let me see . . . Okay. I'm the Seeker. We've got Barshop here, and Lukens and James from Wimbourne as our Chasers."  
  
"They're bloody good," smiled Barshop stepping up to hear the rest of his teammates as well.  
  
"Our beaters are William here," he smiled giving a good shake to his friend's shoulder, "and Wiggins from Puddlemere United. And our keeper is," Harry stopped, he couldn't help the large smile forming over his face even though he was a bit disappointed that Lasky hadn't made it, "Wood from Puddlemere!"  
  
"Wood, he any good?" said Barshop leaning over Harry to glance at the list.  
  
"He's great," said Harry still beaming. "Played with him back at Hogwart's. Best Captain I ever worked with."  
  
~*~  
  
"HARRY!" a loud voice blasted around the room as he pressed the flashing light on his answering machine. He's escaped as quickly as he could after the end of practice. Using the National Team bids as a distraction, he slipped out unnoticed. He didn't want to talk about last night.  
  
"I JUST HEARD IN THE OFFICE THAT YOU MADE CAPTAIN AGAIN! CONGRATULATIONS MATE!" Ron still hadn't learned how to use an answering machine. "ANYWAY, LET ME KNOW LATER HOW THINGS WENT WITH HERMIONE LAST NIGHT! BYE!"  
  
Harry frowned as the message clicked off. He just gotten away from it from Will, and now he came home to it again. And when he had just finally gotten her off of his mind by thinking about playing for England.  
  
"Hey Harry it's me," the new, softer voice came over the answering machine after a beep signaling the end of Ron's message.  
  
Harry, while still glad as always to hear her voice, nearly yelled out loud at his frustration. Not matter what, he just couldn't escape her.  
  
"I just wanted to congratulate you. I heard from Timothy that you made the team. He seemed a bit upset that you made and William made it and he didn't, but that's all right. Between you and me, I think you're the best player in the world."  
  
Harry couldn't help but feel his heart swell at the sound of her voice and the kind things she had to say about him. He imagined though that anything she had to say would sound good in his ears.  
  
"I imagine that you must be too busy now to spend time with me . . . to practice flying I mean," her voice sounded a bit strangled at the end like she wasn't sure what she was saying. Harry paused for a moment, but let it go as his heart dropped. He didn't want her to ever think that he was too busy. He could never be too busy for her.  
  
"I suppose I won't be hearing from you for awhile then. But, Ron promised he'd get me tickets; and I'll be at every single one of your games. I always am . . ."  
  
Harry swore his heart began to beat faster. Crazy thought of her coming just to watch him play instead of Eton ran through his head. He knew it would never be the case, but for some reason, he liked that idea a lot.  
  
"See you then," her soft voiced trailed off. The harsh beep of the machine snapped Harry out of his daydreaming. He suddenly wanted to call Hermione.  
  
"No!" yelled Harry at himself. It seemed like his brain had finally taken control over his body. "This is Hermione. You don't want to think any of those thoughts! You are just angry that she's dating such a prat!" He stomped around the room as he yelled out loud to himself. With a large burst of frustration, he threw his broom that he'd still been holding onto to the floor and stomped upstairs to shower.  
  
The shower did nothing to calm his nerves. It was driving Harry crazy that he couldn't put his finger on why it upset him so much that Eton was with Hermione. He wanted to be the one protecting her. Not some git who is probably only keeping her around for her . . . for her f-a-m-e! It finally hit him. Eton must be using Hermione's name to boost his own. It a well-known fact that Hermione is the highest paid witch in all of England. Not to mention, she's very famous on her own for helping with the demise of Voldemort, and also, for her top selling book series detailing their years at Hogwart's. The only reason Eton probably ever gets stopped on the streets is because someone wanted to talk to Hermione who was with him. Harry just gaped as the realization came upon him. He'd been trying to figure out for so long why he hated Eton so much. This had to be the reason. Now, all he had to do was convince Hermione of it too. 


	4. The Paparazzi

Disclaimer: I don't own H/H. JKR does. She's a goddess! I'm just borrowing them for your entertainment. =)  
  
Thanks for all those who read the first chapter of this!! More to come!  
  
((You know the Happily 'Ever After'? That's what this story is about, just with a quidditch twist ;) ))  
  
Chapter Four: Quidditch and the Ever After  
  
Harry didn't call Hermione that night. He wanted to. He wanted to call and convince her of every nasty thought he'd conjured up about Eton, but he knew that would never work. She'd get angry with him or worse. He needed a plan, but that would have to come later. What he'd needed was sleep, sleep to prepare him for the early morning press conference that he was currently at.  
  
Currently, Harry sat slumped over a chair behind a large velvet curtain. He was wearing the expected suit, tie, and slacks, though his hair was still up bit ruffled having simply rolled out of bed and Apparated a few minutes prior.  
  
"The Minister of the Department of Magical Games and Sports is out there now," some assistant was briefing the member of England's National Team backstage. "In a moment he will introduce Sonic DeLange who is representing the executive board. It's his job to."  
  
Harry droned her out and looked over at William through half-closed eyes. He was snoring and about to drool on his suit. Harry suppressed a laugh and jabbed William in the side. He snorted a bit and sprang upright.  
  
"Did I miss anything?" William wiped the corner of his mouth and adjusted in his chair.  
  
"No, it's the same this every year," said Harry out of the corner of his mouth. "Some assistant comes out and talks, but all they are really saying is walk out, smile, and perhaps shoot off a little wave at the reporters, then take a seat in order. Make sure you stay in order though, you have a name plate in front of you."  
  
"Alright then," said William straightening his suit a bit. He looked paled and nervous now that he'd awoken and remembered what was facing him. In a moment, they'd all be walking out to a sea of reporters. While Harry was practically an old pro at this, it was William's first run.  
  
"Don't trip," said Harry with a wry smile as he stood, leaving a further paling William to follow. He hadn't even noticed that they'd begun walking out.  
  
"Without further ado, I give you England's Captain and Seeker, Mr. Harry Potter."  
  
Harry stepped out from the split in the curtains and gave a friendly little wave to the crowd. The flashbulbs went wild trying to catch a shot of that cheeky grin that gets him on the covers of magazine. Harry took his seat and waited as the rest of the team filed in.  
  
Once everyone had been announced, the reporters began shooting questions at them. Putting on his best game face, Harry began rattling off the usual and expected answers when he was asked. When he wasn't being asked anything, he was formulating his plan to get Hermione away from Eton. Nothing irked him more than thinking about that self-centered bastard using his best friend.  
  
"Mr. Potter, are you currently seeing anyone?" A reporter from Witches Weekly snapped him out of his daze.  
  
"Um, n-not at the moment," said Harry a bit flustered. He was used to getting these questions, but he wasn't really expecting it at this particular press conference.  
  
"Anyone who catches your eye?" she shot right back but Harry had already slipped back into his day dreaming. "Mr. Potter?"  
  
"Yes," he snapped out of his reverie.  
  
"Yes, you have a love interest?" she raised her eyebrows. There was a sudden clamor spreading around them room.  
  
"Yes, err that's not what I ." Harry became flustered. He didn't really know where the reporter's question had come from since he'd failed to pay attention in the first place.  
  
"I'm going to have to intervene and ask that you all go back on topic for this conference. If any of you have any questions for Mr. Potter pertaining to Quidditch, please ask away," Mr. DeLange interrupted.  
  
Harry breathed a slight sigh of relief. He still didn't quite know what had happened. Was it really that distracting, him thinking about Hermione all the time?  
  
~*~  
  
Harry was more than happy to get home and pull off his tie and jacket. It was past lunch by the time the press conference had finished. As he was leaving, Harry was met by a crowd of reporters inquiring about his new romantic interest. The problem was, he didn't have one. He tried to explain the misunderstanding, but it got too frustrating and he ended up having security escort him to the Apparation point.  
  
After ditching his formal wear, he rummaged around in the refrigerator before grabbing some take-out food from a few days ago. Sitting down on his couch, he turned on the telly and flipped to the Wizard News Station (WNS as it was appropriately named).  
  
"And the big new today is disappointing to hear for all you ladies out there. It seems that at a press conference this morning, while talking about earning yet another position for this year's Quidditch National Team, Harry Potter admittedly said he had a new love interest. Who she is or where he met her failed to come up, but I'm sure we'll be hearing more about this in the near future."  
  
Harry flipped off the television in disgust and sat his food down. He'd suddenly lost his appetite. It was complete rubbish. These were the times that he most hated being a celebrity.  
  
He needed to hear a familiar voice, maybe it would help to clear his head. Before he knew what he was doing, he'd picked up his telephone and dialed Hermione.  
  
"Hermione Granger," her soft voice filled his ear. Instantly Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He could feel the calming effect just hearing her voice had on him.  
  
"Hey Gorgeous," said Harry with a smile on his face.  
  
"Why if it isn't the famous Harry Potter. I assumed you'd be too wrapped up with Quidditch to call me this soon. Or maybe it's that you were wrapped up with a certain someone?" said Hermione. Her voice was almost giddy like she'd been waiting to spring it on him. Of course Hermione would have heard what was all over the news.  
  
"Not you too," Harry wrinkled his nose in disgust at the thought his name being in all the papers tomorrow. "Now you know that just isn't true. The only woman in my life is you."  
  
"I'm sorry that I'm the closest thing to a new love interest that you have," she giggled, "I guess we'll just have to report that torrid affair we've been having to the papers and make it all official with an interview or two then."  
  
"But of course darling," he said dramatically as she laughed back, "right before I take a jump off my broom in mid-flight."  
  
"Oh quit that," Hermione chastised. "Now is that all you called me for, to mope that some half-wit reporter took your flustered comments as a revelation of your secret tryst?"  
  
"You know me too well."  
  
"I know. So since we're having this affair and all, does that mean I get another flying date with you soon?"  
  
"Ya, I'm sorry I didn't call you back yesterday to set up another time. How's tonight?" said Harry rubbing the back of his head as he stood up and began wandering around his sitting room.  
  
"Oh I'd love to, but Timothy has reservations at. . ."  
  
"You know, don't worry about it, we'll just try another night," said Harry cutting her off. He couldn't stand to hear anything about Timothy, especially when it was about her and Timothy.  
  
"But I was just going to say, I can cancel. I mean, I'll just tell him my editor called and wants the draft of my next book sooner than I'd expected. It's just that, I know your time is precious little right now. If you're available, I really want to practice. I need a lot of work. There isn't much more time before I wanted to surprise him."  
  
"Really," he broke off her long-winded response, "if you have other plans, we'll just reschedule."  
  
"No, I insist. I'll call Timothy in just a moment. See you at five then?"  
  
"Well, alright," said Harry not quite sure if he should be happy that she was ditching her date since it was to do something for her no good boyfriend. No matter what, he lost. At least he'd spend the time with her instead of Eton.  
  
"Great, see you then!" The phone clicked off. He looked at it in disbelief then shook his head. There was no arguing with that woman when she made a decision. Besides, this could be the perfect opportunity to start slipping in comments about his disdain for Eton.  
  
~*~  
  
Harry spent the rest of his day at Quidditch practice. The Cannons needed to run through plays in preparation for their game against Caerphilly the following day.  
  
By the time he got back to his flat, it was fifteen minutes before five. He didn't take time to shower at the stadium. He knew he might be late to meet Hermione so he wanted to get ready at home.  
  
Without much thought to it, Harry tossed his broom on his bed and stripped off his practice robes. Within minutes he was in and out of the shower. Rifling through his closet, he yanked out a jumper and trousers and threw them on.  
  
When the dust had settled, Harry looked at the clock in his room, two minutes to spare. With a sigh, he grabbed his broom, shrank it, stuck it into his pocket along with his wand, and set off to the Apparation point around the corner from his place.  
  
~*~  
  
"Coming," called Hermione's voice as she walked to answer her door. She opened it to find Harry tugging on all ends of his outfit and trying to brush the fresh droplets of water out of his hair.  
  
"You could have just called and said that you'd be late. I would have understood," smiled Hermione as she reached out and playfully batted the water out of his disheveled bangs.  
  
"And leave my hot new romantic interest waiting? Never," joked Harry as he stepped in to Hermione's flat. She giggled and closed the door behind them.  
  
"I'm really sorry those reporters are after you again. Hopefully they'll give up sooner this time," she spoke as she led him into the sitting room. "Can I bring you a cup of tea?"  
  
"Um, sure alright," said Harry as he had a seat of Hermione's huge, fluffy couch and breathed a sigh of relief to finally be relaxing after his long day.  
  
Harry looked around at the tasteful art pieces on the walls while Hermione fixed their tea. Her place was very nice. She just might be the richest woman in Britain (Harry hadn't quite caught up on the entertainment news) but her place didn't exactly show it. Everything she owned was very nice and her flat was smartly decorated, yet the flat itself was small and out of the way. Nothing inside was all too extravagant either. That was just his Hermione though. She liked things simple. It wasn't the money that drew her to writing; it was simply her love of doing it.  
  
"All set," sang out Hermione's voice as she popped back into the room with two cups of tea. She handed one to Harry who murmured a thank you as she took the seat next to him. "Are you alright, Harry?"  
  
"Just tired, thanks," he took a sip and smiled up at her, "So was he upset?"  
  
"Who? Oh, Timothy, well, yes, he was disappointed. I told him we'd go out tomorrow, but he said he wanted to go to the after game party at the pub," Hermione looked up with a half smile.  
  
Harry frowned. He didn't like it when Timothy drug her around like a prize trophy. He knew Hermione didn't like those after parties.  
  
"Hermione, why don't you just tell him that you don't want to go? Doesn't he ever let you make the plans?" sighed Harry attempting to hide his frustration toward Eton.  
  
"Well, not really, but Timothy is so busy. I try and make it as easy on him as I can. And really, I just want to spend the time with him," Hermione gave him a weak smile.  
  
Harry felt the anger begin to boil up inside him. If Timothy was there, he'd punch him right now just for using Hermione. Instead, he took a deep breath, set down his tea cup, and stood up. "Ready for some flying?"  
  
~*~  
  
"You're doing great!" said Harry standing on the ground and watching Hermione try her first solo fly only ten feet off the ground. Just being outside with his broom was enough to make Harry forget all the prior day's events. He was so proud watching her fly around. She'd managed to stay up for at least ten minutes on her own so far.  
  
"HARRY!" she screamed as the broom wobbled a bit, "How do I get down!"  
  
"You know this; just gently direct the handle," said Harry calmly looking up with his arms folded across his chest.  
  
Hermione gave the broom a big yank. She screamed as the broom took a quick jut and tossed her off. "Harrrrrrrrrrrrry!!!!!!!" Her small frame flailed as tumbled through the night's sky.  
  
Harry grunted as the screaming Hermione fell into his arms. "Now it wasn't that big of a fall. You weren't that high up. Besides, I promised I'd catch you if you fell." He flashed her his debonair smile.  
  
"Thanks," said Hermione breathing a sigh of relief as she laid her head on his shoulder. He was looking at her with such caring eyes. She couldn't exactly yell about her falling since he'd just rescued her and was being so gentle.  
  
***FLASH***  
  
"What was that?" said Harry, turning toward the bushes surrounding his private flying lot. Hermione was still safely tucked away in his arms as he spun.  
  
"What was what?" she asked blinking her eyes at the darkness and looking around.  
  
"Must have been nothing," said Harry as he gently set Hermione down. "Come up with me again?" Harry walked over and picked up his broom.  
  
"I just fell off that thing! You expect me to get right back on!" said Hermione incredulously. Now that he'd put her down she didn't feel like holding back her anger from falling anymore. His charm couldn't always keep a hold of her.  
  
"Yes, I do," Harry gave her a wry smile and extended his hand.  
  
Hermione smiled and tried to put on a pout, but she failed. So maybe his charm did always keep a hold of her. She giggled as he wiggled his eyebrows while she accepted his hand. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had this much fun. Actually, she could. It was the last time she went flying with Harry. As she took his hand and walked over to his broom, she felt more content than she had during her entire relationship with Timothy. How could small gestures of friendship from Harry mean more to her? 'Timothy and I will be like this soon. We just haven't known each other long enough,' Hermione rationalized as she climbed onto Harry's broom. Still, she couldn't help but sink back into his arms as they took off. She felt so incredibly safe and happy there.  
  
As they flew, they both failed to notice to flashes of light coming from the ground below.  
  
As per usual, sorry this took so long! The quarter ending always gives me extra time to write though so enjoy! R/R and I think I'll get another chapter out before I head back to school! 


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